


Vengeance That's Never Free

by Anonymous



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! Duel Monsters (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Age Never Explicitly Mentioned, Canonical Character Death, Extremely Underage, Gozaburo is a Bad Bad Man, Incest, M/M, Sibling Incest, Threats of Rape/Non-Con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:35:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29092122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Seto gives in to Mokuba in private, only when they're alone and safe.But there is no safe place in the Kaiba mansion...not while Gozaburo lives there.
Relationships: Kaiba Gozaburo/Kaiba Mokuba/Kaiba Seto, Kaiba Gozaburo/Kaiba Seto, Kaiba Mokuba/Kaiba Seto
Kudos: 3
Collections: Five Figure Fanwork Exchange 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LuciferxDamien](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuciferxDamien/gifts).



The spare bedroom on the third floor, the one nearest the attic steps, was never used. It was, of course, still cleaned every day, one of the many wasteful things Gozaburo indulged in that Seto found baffling. No one ever stayed in the mansion beside the three of them. There was nobody to impress. Still, after one turn down and dusting, the room was never used, and so it was the perfect place for Seto and Mokuba to be alone.

Seto couldn’t have Mokuba sleep in his bed anymore, sharing a space like they used to at the orphanage. It didn’t matter, since Seto hardly slept in his own bed, but Mokuba still wanted that closeness they had shared. If he was being honest, so did Seto, but then, he hadn’t been honest in a long time, especially not with Mokuba. There were things Mokuba didn’t need to know. Things about that household that he shouldn’t know. Seto would do anything to keep him from learning them.

But that spare bedroom, that was theirs. Seto would share his plans for his game tech with Mokuba. He would share what he learned in a much less aggressive way than he’d been taught. And together, they would share moments of silence, content to sit in each other’s presence.

Nobody knew about them, Seto was sure of it. He’d gone through the room before bringing Mokuba there, hunting for hidden cameras and judases; when the mansion was built, each of the rooms had had such things installed, probably for blackmail purposes, though what good they were when no one visited, Seto couldn’t fathom. He had received no punishment for obscuring them, so he determined it was safe. Perhaps the only safe place in the mansion.

“I’ve missed you, big brother,” Mokuba said, waiting impatiently for Seto to lock the door before hugging him around the waist. Seto was so tall these days.

Seto knelt and hugged Mokuba back, holding him perhaps a little longer than he should have. He pulled back to speak and Mokuba kissed him on the lips.

It was nothing. Just a kiss between brothers. So what if it lasted a bit too long? After days of no contact, weren’t they allowed to touch each other? And wouldn’t it hurt Mokuba to pull away, to reject him, for just a kiss?

Seto had made a million such justifications for his behavior, for his complacence. He loved Mokuba, and that’s all there was to it. It was good, it had to be. It couldn’t be anything like what Gozaburo did to him in private. It wasn’t. Mokuba meant the world to Seto. Seto meant next to nothing to their so-called father.

But one kiss led to another.

And another.

And another.

Mokuba was in the beginning stages of puberty and Seto was starved for true kindness and affection.

Kisses led to touches.

Touches led to more.

And, unbeknownst to them, Gozaburo watched.

And waited.


	2. Chapter 2

“You’re very close to your brother, aren’t you, Seto?”

No reaction. He couldn’t risk giving one. Reacting meant that Gozaburo was right, that he’d found a weak point in Seto’s armor. He would strike for the kill if he could.

“Yes,” Seto said, keeping his pace constant. He didn’t like the slight emphasis Gozaburo had placed on “close”. “We always have been.”

This was just one of Gozaburo’s repertoire of power plays. Usually, he would discuss business matters while Seto fucked himself on his cock. Seto would call it a dance, but it was nothing so poetic or beautiful. It was a verbal chess match, a war in which the rules changed every turn, when the rules were followed at all. This was also a type of training. Seto was expected to learn how to separate his mind from his body, to remain cool and collected even when he wanted to rage and attack.

But mostly, it was about control. Gozaburo taking it without force and Seto giving it up without losing everything.

A thick hand ran down his spine, pressing roughly on each vertebra.

“Such an age difference between you,” Gozaburo said. “It’s a wonder you two spend so much time together.”

A lie arrived easily on his tongue, but Seto swallowed it down. “Until you, we’ve only ever had each other.” Not a lie, but not an answer.

The hand on his back settled on one hip, not moving him or stopping him. It just sat there, waiting.

“It’s surprising how different you two are,” Gozaburo said, his tone easy, nonchalant, as though they were discussing nothing more pressing than the weather. “You keep your brother so innocent of the world.”

Seto just kept moving, staring at the wall before him. Whatever point Gozaburo was trying to reach, it would come out in time.

Then Gozaburo stubbed his cigar on Seto’s lower back.

Seto gasped, arching away from the hole burning into him, but Gozaburo held it firm. The hand on his hip reached up to his hair, yanking him backwards.

“It’s enticing, isn’t it? That innocence.”

Tears sprang into Seto’s eyes, only mostly from the pain of the cigar.

“Does it make you yearn for your own, _son_?” Gozaburo asked, his eyes wild in the corner of Seto’s vision, his lips brushing Seto’s cheek. “Or do you want to possess it?”

Seto grit his teeth, his breath hissing between them.

Finally, Gozaburo pulled the cigar away, leaving a stinging, burning mark beside Seto’s spine. He pulled Seto’s head further back until they could see each other. Some part of Seto’s back cracked loudly, and finally Gozaburo let him go.

Seto instinctively doubled over on himself, regretting it the second his back stretched taut. He exhaled hard, trying to rid his nose of the stench of burning flesh. He moved to stand, desperate to get away, but Gozaburo grabbed his hips, forcing Seto back down on his cock. Gozaburo fucked him roughly until he came, then pushed him off, finally letting Seto flop down on the bed.

“Clean yourself up,” Gozaburo said, going back to his cigar and a discarded stock report.

Robotically, Seto made his way to the en suite. This wasn’t the first time he’d been burned by one of those damn cigars, but it was the first time in a while. The bathroom was stocked with enough wound care supplies for him to take care of it, even if it was in an awkward place to reach.

He finished cleaning up and put everything away. From the light snoring he could hear through the door, Gozaburo had finished his smoke and fallen asleep. He didn’t explicitly say Seto couldn’t go back to his room, although he hadn’t said he could. It wasn’t worth the pain, going, not with a fresh wound.

Seto caught sight of his face in the bathroom mirror and started. His eyes looked as dead as he felt, his face gaunt, haunted.

Sighing once before leaving the bathroom, Seto straightened as much as he could, schooled his face into the arrogant blankness he’d learned, and joined his father in bed.

Once again, Seto had lost the game.


	3. Chapter 3

The strange one-sided conversation Gozaburo had had with him hung in Seto’s head like a corpse. There was something he was missing, some small piece that would tell him how much danger he was in. But then, his brain had been less reliable recently, like a puzzle with no discernible differences between pieces, and no clues as to the final result. He was becoming so inured to danger that it hardly registered anymore, not until it was too late.

It was a week after his burn scar had healed that Seto found that last piece.

So far that evening, Gozaburo hadn’t touched Seto. He often didn’t when Mokuba or the tutors were around, but even in the privacy of his own bedroom, Gozaburo kept his hands off of him. He just sat on the bed in his robe and read the paper. After fifteen minutes of this, Seto pulled a book off the shelves at random and sat beside his father reading.

“Do you miss your brother when you can’t see him every day?” Gozaburo asked, the suddenness of it nearly making Seto jump.

“I always see him at dinner,” Seto said, turning the page of his book.

“That’s not an answer.”

“Yes.” Silence met him. “I do miss him.”

“I think you should see him more,” Gozaburo said. “He has grown up so much.”

Seto’s blood chilled. He looked at his book, seeing but not reading the same sentence over again.

“Yes,” Seto said, after nearly too much time had passed. “He has.”

He could feel Gozaburo’s gaze on him, but he kept staring blankly at the words before him. The silence stretched on for what felt like minutes. His chest felt tight, like he couldn’t get air inside him, or more like he didn’t dare to breathe.

“Mokuba!” Gozaburo called, shattering the tension. “Come here.”

Seto snapped to attention, his neck cracking with the speed at which he turned towards the opening bathroom door.

Mokuba stood in the doorway, dressed in his pajamas, looking very confused as to why his brother was naked. Or maybe he was concerned by Seto’s wide, frightened eyes, a look which never crossed his face under normal circumstances.

But these were definitely not normal circumstances.

“Well, come here, Mokuba,” Gozaburo said, with just a hint of impatience in his voice.

Mokuba took tentative steps forward, looking to Seto for reassurance. The knot in Seto’s stomach meant he had none to give.

“Undress,” Gozaburo said, an order, not a suggestion.

Seto nodded numbly and Mokuba obeyed.

Gozaburo laughed, one hard, startling sound. “Who taught you children to be so shameful? We’re all men here.”

Mokuba’s mouth twitched, like maybe it wanted to smile at Gozaburo’s laugh but something held it back. Probably fear.

Gozaburo got up and walked over to Mokuba, resting a hand on his small shoulder. “Go greet your brother.”

Relieved, Mokuba climbed onto the bed beside him, his smile faltering when Seto didn’t reach out for him. Seto didn’t even look at him. He kept his eyes on their father. This was a new game and a dangerous one. If he could figure out the rules here, maybe he could keep Mokuba safe.

“Seto,” Gozaburo said. “Aren’t you happy to see your brother?”

“Of course.”

“You don’t look happy. I’ve seen you two. You usually touch him more.” Gozaburo didn’t smile, but his voice did. “Don’t you want to touch him, Seto?”

Seto’s eyes widened a fraction and his breath caught. He had been so sure they hadn’t been seen, that nobody could have watched them. He’d found all the other cameras in the walls, in the lights…. How could he have missed--?

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, except keeping Mokuba safe.

He pulled Mokuba into an embrace, turning his body to keep their father’s eyes off of him. Mokuba wrapped his arms around Seto.

“What’s going on, big brother?”

Seto shook his head slightly.

Gozaburo tossed his robe onto the end of the bed. “Well, ‘big brother’? Why don’t you tell him?”

Seto glared at him and squeezed Mokuba tighter, as if he could protect him from the man twice his own build. He could not admit he didn’t know where this game was headed. He had taken those punishments before without trouble, but with Mokuba physically added into the mix, there was no way Seto could do anything but pretend he knew what moves he could make.

But Seto waited too long. Mokuba turned his head to see Gozaburo standing naked beside the bed, his erection proud and thick before them. Seto was sure it was fear and their own close contact that caused it, but Mokuba’s erection began poking him in the thigh. Seto turned himself a little more, trying to bodily keep Gozaburo from seeing his brother’s reaction. The last thing he wanted was for their father to touch Mokuba.

Gozaburo reached out and set one hand on Mokuba’s back, and it took every bit of strength Seto had for him to not launch himself at the man, to attack him, to destroy him. Not that it would end well for him. Gozaburo laid his other hand on Seto’s shoulder and Seto bit back his temper. Losing his head wouldn’t keep Mokuba safe.

“You aren’t usually this quiet, Seto,” Gozaburo said. “Is something wrong?”

Everything was wrong. Terribly wrong.

“Of course not, Father,” Seto said, not relaxing his hold on Mokuba. “I’m just…surprised. I didn’t think you’d allow Mokuba to join us.” Was that the right thing to say? Should he say more? Should he have said less?

“Think of it as a treat,” Gozaburo said. He let go and settled on the bed beside them. “Go on.”

Mokuba looked up at Seto, just as innocent as ever. A chill ran through Seto as he met his little brother’s eyes. Gozaburo set a hand on the back of Seto’s neck and squeezed.

“Or would you prefer I take him first?”

It wasn’t really a question. It wasn’t even a threat. It was just the fact of what would happen if Seto didn’t obey.

The game had barely started and already he’d lost. Then again, maybe Seto had lost before he had even started playing.

He nodded once, then cupped Mokuba’s face in his hands, kissing him tenderly. Mokuba was hesitant -- probably very aware of Gozaburo watching them -- but once Seto began to pet him, Mokuba relaxed, holding him tight and rubbing himself back and forth on Seto’s thigh.

Gozaburo removed his hand from Seto’s neck and Seto tried not to think about where that hand went.

This was not the time to be distracted. Maybe if he just focused on Mokuba, Gozaburo would leave them alone. Not enough of a show, or one that was not to his liking, meant that Gozaburo would be less likely to repeat this.

Then again, too poor of a show meant punishment. What was the line? Where did he cross it? Could he? Should he?

Seto reached down to stroke him, and Mokuba bucked into his hand.

“Big brother,” Mokuba said breathlessly.

Seto felt a twinge in his stomach he hadn’t before. It hadn’t sounded so wrong before Gozaburo brought them into his room. Now Seto just felt dirty.

He was beginning to suspect that was the point.

“Mokuba,” he whispered, hoping to speed up the moment. Seto hissed as Mokuba grabbed his cock, mirroring his movements. He groaned unwillingly, hating himself for giving in. But then, what else could he do?

Mokuba gasped as he came into Seto’s hand, his eyes wide. His orgasm always surprised him, but that wasn’t strange, really; he was still young. Too young, Seto reminded himself. He kissed his brother’s face and mouth, praising him quietly.

Large hands landed on his hips and Seto managed at the last moment to not tense. He’d forgotten that Gozaburo was there. Stupid! How could he have done that? He was going to pay for it, he knew it.

“I think we should show Mokuba he has more than that to look forward to,” Gozaburo said.

Seto swallowed thickly.

He was half-prepped already; it was part of his nightly ritual once Gozaburo got a hold of him. Gozaburo finished preparing him roughly, then sat Seto down on his cock, a groan emerging from Seto’s throat at the force of him. Gozaburo wrapped a hand around Seto’s neck and fucked him hard.

This was familiar, at least. Seto knew what to do here. He moaned at all the right times and places, letting Gozaburo lightly strangle him, keeping his eyes closed. He’d almost convinced himself this was just any other night, when Gozaburo spoke again:

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you Mokuba?”

Seto’s eyes shot open and Gozaburo throttled him. Instinctively, Seto’s hands flew to the one choking him, attempting to pry it loose. Gozaburo tightened his grip. Through watering eyes Seto saw Mokuba watching them, one hand on his cock. He tried to swallow back his humiliation, but Gozaburo squeezed tighter.

Seto hated when he got like this. Hated the way that his body responded to this type of torture. His cock throbbed, aching for release. His face was going red with the lack of blood circulation. He could feel himself growing faint.

And Gozaburo just fucked him harder.

Just as the pain was passing him over to darkness, Gozaburo let go of him. Seto gasped and came. Relief flooded him nearly as hard as his orgasm and he felt himself going boneless. He had to keep it together. Gozaburo wasn’t done yet. Mokuba was still here. He couldn’t let Mokuba alone here, he just couldn’t!

Gozaburo came soon after, staying deep inside Seto so he’d feel every drop of it. Seto didn’t notice when Mokuba had come again, but it didn’t much matter. He was humiliated. Not only did Mokuba have to witness his big brother’s debasement, but Seto hadn’t been able to protect him from Gozaburo after all.

Somehow, Gozaburo would pay for this.

“Go to bed, Mokuba,” Gozaburo said, snapping Seto out of his thoughts. “Your brother and I have work to do.”

Mokuba glanced at Seto, but Seto found he couldn’t respond. He just stared at Mokuba blankly. Mokuba looked away, dressed in his pajamas again, and left the room.

Gozaburo lit one of his cigars and pushed Seto back over to his side of the bed. “I think you should bring him in more often,” he said, as if it was Seto’s fault.

Maybe it was. He shouldn’t have given in to Mokuba, no matter how good it had felt. He knew better.

In this house, there was no safe place.

He picked up his discarded book and pretended to read once more. Gozaburo had returned to his paper, smoking, and ignoring his son again.

One word kept coming up on Seto, the only one his brain allowed him to recognize. It floated before his eyes, settling into his mind like a prayer.

_Revenge._

He’d have to be swift before his father could think of something else.

_Revenge._

Before he could hurt Mokuba again.

_Revenge._

Seto would have it. One day.

Some day.

Soon.


	4. Chapter 4

He didn’t see much of Mokuba after that night. There were no more secret visits to the third floor bedroom, no more special time together. Gozaburo had soiled that, just as he had ruined so many other things Seto had once loved. If he had been able to notice, he hadn’t seen much of Gozaburo lately, either. But Seto had been loaded up with twice the usual amount of work and went to bed every morning exhausted, getting no more than three hours of sleep on a good day.

This morning, he’d had to stop his work too early. He couldn’t explain it, but he was bone tired, more than he’d ever been. He would only get about two hours of sleep, but if he planned it right, he could still finish his work before his tutors returned. Seto dragged himself into bed and was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.

He often didn’t dream anymore; when he did, his dreams were usually about falling. This night’s dream was no different. It trapped him, replaying over and over a feeling of flying and his stomach dropping as he fell. He dreamed he was being pulled off his bed, yanked by his legs off up to the ceiling. Seto knew, however, if he’d reached it, he would fall and fall and fall and maybe never land.

Finally, Seto couldn’t take it anymore, and wrenched his eyes open.

He had fallen asleep in his room, but awoke in the spare bedroom on the third floor.

His mouth tasted like cotton and his shoulders hurt. He tried bringing down his arms and found he couldn’t. Slowly, his brain ground back into gear. He was strapped to the bedposts.

Seto fought the bonds. He knew they wouldn’t break, but he had to test them. He had to find some measure of control.

Beside him, Gozaburo chuckled. Seto turned his head, glaring to hide his panic.

“Have I displeased you, father?” he asked, hating the way he slurred his words, his tongue feeling too big for his mouth.

“Your work has been adequate,” Gozaburo said. “But this isn’t for me. Have you forgot what today is?”

Seto racked his brain, but he couldn’t remember what day it had been yesterday, let alone if it had been important, and nothing was giving him any clues.

Gozaburo smiled and looked over Seto. “You see, Mokuba? He’s already forgotten your birthday.”

Seto followed Gozaburo’s gaze, his eyes wide, only to find Mokuba on the other side of him.

“Your brother’s been very sad without you, Seto,” Gozaburo said. “And now you forgot about his birthday? You’ll need to make it up to him.”

Mokuba looked to Gozaburo. “May I have him now, father?”

“Mokuba!” Seto hissed.

“You may, Mokuba.”

Mokuba smiled and slipped out of his clothes, dropping them on the floor in his haste. He climbed onto the bed and positioned himself between Seto’s legs.

“Remember to prepare him, Mokuba,” Gozaburo said, sitting back to watch them.

Mokuba nodded and picked up a bottle of lube off the bench at the end of the bed.

“Mokuba,” Seto said, evenly. “Don’t.”

“You don’t want to let him have his own birthday present?” Gozaburo asked, amusement palpable in his voice.

Seto kept his focus on his brother. “Mokuba. Look at me.”

Mokuba obeyed, his eyes wide and innocent as ever.

Seto would take his punishment from Gozaburo later. “Untie me, Mokuba.”

Mokuba glanced quickly at their father, then shook his head.

Seto’s stomach fell. “Mokuba?”

Mokuba looked down again, as though he could no longer meet Seto’s gaze, then lubed up his fingers, and began to prepare him.

Betrayal settled in his gut like an ice train, knocking the wind out of him. Seto raised his gaze to the ceiling and forced himself to relax. This was part of his nightmare; it had to be. If it wasn’t, then it meant--

Seto didn’t know what it meant. His head was still foggy. He thought back over the past few weeks, searching his memory for a clue he’d missed.

_Gozaburo had been absent?_ But he was often absent from their home life.

_No contact with Mokuba?_ Seto had initiated that.

_Gozaburo not bringing Seto to his meetings?_ That was a more definitive clue. He’d been so busy with tutors, it hadn’t occurred to him to miss them. If only he had, perhaps he could have been prepared for this.

But how does one prepare for betrayal?

“--to me.”

Seto realized he’d been caught up in his head a split second before Gozaburo’s hand struck his cheek. That jolted him back into his body.

“He’s ignoring you, Mokuba,” Gozaburo said, squeezing Seto’s jaw. “What could be more important than your dear little brother?”

His head still ringing from the blow, he glanced down at Mokuba. But Mokuba wasn’t looking at him at all.

“I think he’s ready,” Mokuba said.

“Good boy,” Gozaburo said. He turned Seto’s head to face him, holding him there. “Whenever you’re ready.”

Mokuba entered him.

Seto hissed. Even though he was still young -- too young, too small -- he hadn’t prepared Seto enough. But then, Seto had never taught him, and he was sure Gozaburo wouldn’t have really bothered beyond a perfunctory lesson or--

Oh, no.

If he hurt Mokuba, Seto would kill him.

_Will you?_ asked the voice in his head, that nagging one of doubt that sounded far too much like Gozaburo himself. _You couldn’t protect him to begin with. What more can you do before you realize you’ve failed?_

Gozaburo dug his thumb into the hinge of Seto’s jaw. Seto opened his mouth automatically, gagging on Gozaburo’s cock as he shoved it in as far as he could go.

Seto’s gut clenched as they fucked him. Mokuba’s thrusts were irregular and fast, while Gozaburo seemed to enjoy taking as long as he could before letting Seto breathe again. But the one thing Seto would not do was cry. He’d had worse, he told himself, even as betrayal and horror chilled his veins.

He would not break. Not here. Not now.

Gozaburo came down his throat faster than Seto had expected. He nearly inhaled his father’s come as Gozaburo pulled out of him to finish on his face. He must have been more excited than Seto had thought. Mokuba followed soon after.

Seto’s shoulders relaxed minutely. A small sigh of relief escaped him.

It was over.

Even though he was uncomfortably hard, he could take care of that later.

Mokuba looked up at Gozaburo for his next instructions. Gozaburo looked recovered.

“You should thank your brother, Mokuba.”

Seto tensed again. No.

No, no.

Mokuba pulled out of him and leaned forward. His hand wrapped around Seto’s cock, stroking him the way he knew Seto liked. Tentatively, he put his mouth around his brother’s cock, licking and sucking it like a candy.

Seto bit his lip until it bled. He would resist. He had to. He couldn’t--

Gozaburo wandered down the bed, pushing Mokuba’s head down until he choked and sputtered.

Seto came into his brother’s mouth, furious tears in his eyes.

He knew he had to remain focused. He had to stay aware. However, to be honest, the rest of that night was a blur.

Gozaburo fucked him once more, later, after Mokuba had been sent back to his room while Seto remained tied to the bed. Gozaburo had untied one of his hands afterwards, leaving Seto to free himself and return to his own room.

He knew he was being watched; he always was in this house. But, once in bed, Seto pulled his blankets over him and silently cried for the last goodness he had just lost.


	5. Chapter 5

Gozaburo eased off the tutors after that night, allowing Seto to return to his former schedule. He had made his point and won his game. Seto forced himself to feel nothing. He focused harder on game theory and on strategy. Gozaburo may have won that battle, but the war was far from over.

Whatever Seto may have felt about it was unimportant.

When Hamlet had embarked on his quest of revenge, he had let his emotions interfere with his plans: his fear of God, his own hesitance. Gozaburo, for what it was worth, believed in only one power and that was his own.

And Seto had no hesitance over causing Gozaburo’s death, if it came to that. He would much rather see him grovel, see him wither, see him powerless. Only then, would he allow Gozaburo to die. Death was not revenge, merely prudence; it would be unwise to let Gozaburo live to regain his power.

No. Seto needed to completely defeat him.

But what about Mokuba?

Whenever Seto thought about his little brother, it brought on a panic attack. He had to think of his course rationally. Dispassionately.

Mokuba was a casualty of war, that was all.

After all, there was no such thing as brotherly love in the gaming world. There was only winning or losing. Conquer or defeat.

Seto had to believe it. Had to. Otherwise, unhelpful thoughts crept in.

 _Mokuba is too young to know better_ , they’d say. _How can you blame him, when he all he wants is to love you?_

Seto would strengthen his resolve and focus all his energy on Gozaburo. Mokuba was a liability now. Perhaps one day, things would be different. But “perhaps” was a dangerous word.

And then, Gozaburo gave Seto the keys to his own destruction.

He began allowing Seto to lead more meetings, to let him build up power among the board. Gozaburo started it to humiliate Seto publicly, to throw him into the ring with no preparation, to teach him more “lessons”. And Seto played along dutifully, hiding his techniques and tricks until Gozaburo actually believed his bluff.

Gozaburo had taught him at least one valuable thing: use whatever you can to gain the upper hand. When that meant Seto’s mind, it was easy; he could run circles around the board members, but always knew when to praise them for whatever “insight” they shared that he’d already given them. When it meant his body, well, one old man was very much like another.

Soon, Seto had the entire board behind him.

_“Starting today, Kaiba Corporation belongs to me. Have I learned what you wanted…’Father’?”_

_“Burn this into your brain! This is what a loser deserves!”_

Gozaburo threw himself out his own window in order to avoid losing face.

Pity. Seto had wanted him to suffer more.

With the death of Gozaburo came the uncomfortable circumstance of needing to deal with Mokuba. By then, of course, Mokuba had his own little gang of friends to play with and did seem to understand that Seto had more important things to do than keep him company. He had a corporation to run. And a new enemy to face.

Yugi.

Not that it made dealing with Mokuba any easier. He still wanted to be close to Seto. After all, they were alone in the world once again.

He lost to Yugi in what should have been a simple game. So Seto planned a new revenge. He hadn’t planned on Mokuba taking part in it; he disapproved entirely, but Mokuba was still his brother and stubborn as ever.

Then Yugi defeated him again and literally shattered his heart.

The last words he’d said to his brother were cruel.

_“I’ve felt your pathetic, clinging, loser’s gaze staring at my back for years. I kept telling you over and over, Mokuba, if you play with fire you’ll get burned._

_“Until you realize that there is no such thing as brotherly love, you will always be a loser!”_

And then he couldn’t take them back.


End file.
